


desire as your holy fire

by blushytobio (blanketkicks)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23279113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanketkicks/pseuds/blushytobio
Summary: The five times Bokuto calls Akaashi by his first name.(alternate description: Akaashi’s weaknesses are Bokuto, Bokuto, and Bokuto.)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 11
Kudos: 623





	desire as your holy fire

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry i probably got all the Volleyball Facts™ wrong

i.

It begins on a warm day during Akaashi's first year.

Akaashi has only just begun to figure out patterns in Bokuto's behaviour, noticing how Bokuto puffs up his chest and boasts to his kouhai when he gets complimented by their captain- "I knew it! My spikes are always great!"- but not before turning a light shade of pink, or how he rubs his hands on his shorts every time before he serves.

But every time Akaashi thinks he's got the second-year figured out, inexplicably, Bokuto surprises him. Just when Akaashi thinks that Bokuto must have some emotional connection with his kneepads (they're leggings, really) since he seems to never take them off, Bokuto shows up to the next day's practice with the same kneepads, except they’re bright pink. Nobody past their first year on the team gives it a second glance, so Akaashi goes with it too. Right after Akaashi decides that Bokuto really must hate Nekoma’s middle blocker- after all, the first he sees them interacting, they’re fighting like five year olds- Bokuto and the blocker embrace like they haven’t seen each other in years, and oh, he didn’t expect that.

And when Akaashi has just gotten used to hearing "Akaashi!" shouted in varying volumes and pitches, Bokuto surprises him. 

Bokuto has insisted on an outdoor practice, just the two of them- "We need to figure out how we work together before we factor in the rest of the team!"- Akaashi setting, and Bokuto spiking. They're beginning to form a rhythm these days. Akaashi can almost always tell when Bokuto wants a toss, and when he can't, Bokuto makes sure to yell his name with such intensity that it startled Akaashi at first, but like everything else with Bokuto, he takes it in stride. 

"Akaashiii, toss to me!" Bokuto says, even though he's standing right there, ball in hand, clearly about to toss to him. But Bokuto's smile is so wide (and a little sweet) that Akaashi can't bring himself to say anything in response. 

So Akaashi does what he does best; tosses to Bokuto- and sees it coming a split second before it happens. Bokuto jumps high, knees bending, breath catching, but he jumps a little too far, his knees are a little too bent to straighten fully before his legs hit the ground, and he crumples.

Akaashi is by his side before he can even register his legs moving, kneeling down, hands reaching to rest on Bokuto's shoulders. "Bokuto-san, are you alright? Bokuto-san?" If he sounds a little frantic, it's because Bokuto- Bokuto, who breathes louder than a kettle spewing out steam- has gone silent. 

A bit of white-grey hair on Bokuto's head sticks out in a different direction than the rest, and Akaashi's hand itches to smooth it down. But he keeps his hands on Bokuto's shoulders instead as the elder slowly raises his head. 

He expects an enthusiastic "I'm alright!", or a loud, "Akaashii! It hurts!", but what he sees is the way Bokuto's eyes seem to moisten, the slight downward tilt to his mouth, and he most certainly doesn't expect what Bokuto says next. 

"Keiji," in the softest voice Akaashi has ever heard. His heart leaps a little, but he pushes it aside because Bokuto- Bokuto is hurt, he's in pain, and it's probably because he tossed to him wrong. 

"Bokuto-san, I'm-" 

"Your toss was perfect," Bokuto says, "I overcompensated a little." 

No it wasn't, Akaashi wants to tell him. No, you didn't.

He watches Bokuto's frown get deeper, and no, he absolutely cannot have that. So he says, "No, you didn't." Bokuto's eyes widen imperceptibly, but Akaashi notices. 

"My toss was too short, Bokuto-san. I'll be sure to do better next time." Akaashi continues. "Are you alright?" 

"I- my leg." Bokuto says, looking down at his right calf. "I think I twisted it a little?" 

Akaashi's heart sinks a little bit. "Can you walk? We should get you to the infirmary."

There's a pause, which his erratic heartbeat almost fully occupies, until it's broken by Bokuto smiling. "Only if you let me lean on your shoulder, Akaashi!" 

Akaashi does, and endures his stupid jokes and eyebrow waggling all the way to the infirmary and back to the gym.

ii.

Akaashi is stretching before their practice match against Nekoma, and usually, he’d be focusing on how much his muscles need to loosen up, or be going over their rotation chart, but today he’s thinking about Bokuto. That seems to be happening a lot lately. 

It’s about Bokuto’s spikes at first, and then Akaashi’s mind moves to his shoulders, his back, his hips, and when it’s clear that his train of thought seems to be heading in a very specific direction, he tries to prevent it from derailing any further by focusing his attention on gulping down water instead. 

He steps onto the court with the rest of the team, and it begins. Nekoma seems to be more motivated than usual today- Kenma actually has his eyes fully open, Akaashi notices- and it seems like the two teams are going to head to head. 

The match is pretty even for most of the first set; neither of the teams let the other get away with too long a streak, and although it’s taxing, Akaashi can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction at being evenly matched with Nekoma. 

And then, unexpectedly, Nekoma begins to take the lead at 19 to Fukurodani’s 17. Akaashi is breathing too hard to figure out the exact reason, but it might be because Kuroo seems to have had a surge of energy for whatever reason, and his blocks are getting higher. Somewhere in his mind, Akaashi registers a sense of grudging respect for the middle blocker. He must’ve been practicing hard- and with Kenma, by the looks of how they’ve gotten more synchronized since the last time Akaashi saw them play.

Bokuto spikes and spikes, and Tatsuki blocks, but Nekoma scores 3 points in rapid succession. Akaashi can feel Bokuto’s morale dropping. 

Nekoma scores another point, Bokuto’s face gets redder, Akaashi’s heart drops further. And then, the ball is hurling towards Akaashi, and he feels like this is all he’s ever wanted to do when he calls out, “Bokuto-san!”, spreads his palms and tosses the ball. 

Bokuto jumps, and Akaashi gets hit with tunnel vision- he can see the sweat on Bokuto’s neck, his shoulders broadening, his wrist twisting to spike the ball to the side, past the blockers- 

The ball doesn’t get past the the blockers. Akaashi feels his heartbeat pounding in his ears, in tandem with the thump, thump, thump of the ball on Fukurodani’s side of the court. And then, the coach is calling for their first timeout. 

His jersey is soaked in sweat and his throat feels as dry as sandpaper. At least they’ve interrupted Nekoma’s streak with a timeout. He watches Bokuto slump tiredly on the bench, and Akaashi wants nothing more than to help him, tell him it’s alright to make mistakes. The captain throws Akaashi a meaningful glance, and that’s his cue. He grabs two bottles of water and walks over to Bokuto.

“Bokuto-san?” His voice is a little shaky, but he needs to get through to Bokuto.

“My s-spikes- they keep getting blocked.” Bokuto says, and his voice is even shakier, and rough. Akaashi wastes no time in sitting next to him. 

“Here, drink some water,” Akaashi offers him one of the water bottles. 

“Don’t wanna,” Bokuto says petulantly, voice somewhat muffled. Akaashi feels a small prick of endearment, but pushes it down quickly. 

“Bokuto-san, you need to drink some water.” Akaashi says firmly, and Bokuto lifts his head up from where it was cradled between his arms. 

“I’m a terrible player,” It breaks Akaashi’s heart to hear how resigned he sounds. Bokuto takes the water bottle from him and takes a gulp, and Akaashi unconsciously follows the movement until he catches himself, and quickly looks down at Bokuto’s hands. 

And then, “Bokuto-san? You used a cross-spike, right?” 

Bokuto finishes drinking his water and says, “Yeah, it wasn’t a good spike though.”

Akaashi knows that it’ll only take the smallest of wins to get Bokuto’s spirits up again. In this case, if Fukurodani scores even one point because of Bokuto, he’ll get fired up. The team always backs up Bokuto when his mind is everywhere but in the game, but they always do better when everybody is in their best state of mind. 

“Bokuto-san, I think you should try using a straight spike instead. Once, at least.” 

Bokuto’s eyes widen just a fraction. “Huh? But I haven’t practiced straight spikes a lot. Cross spikes are my speciality.” He says, and then adds, “Or at least, they were.” 

“Kuroo-san can read you pretty well,” Akaashi says, and Bokuto makes a small sound in his throat. “But I don’t think he’ll expect you to use a straight spike. All you need to do is act like you’re cross-spiking.” 

“Do you really think that’ll work?” 

“I’ll give you the best toss I can, and we’ll make it work.” Akaashi needs to sound resolute, for Bokuto, even if he isn’t sure. Chances are, it might not work, and Bokuto’s spirits might plummet further, but he has to take this chance. Bokuto needs someone to rely on, and Akaashi wants it to be him. 

Bokuto’s eyes are shining when their gazes meet. 

They talk to the coach, and for the most part, he agrees with Akaashi. Akaashi can tell that the coach is worried about it not working, but this is the best they can do right now. 

When they step onto the court again, Akaashi notices that Bokuto seems especially tense. Bokuto is probably putting himself under immense pressure right now, and Akaashi wants him to stop curling his hands into such tight fists. 

So he walks over to Bokuto, says, “We’ll do this together, Bokuto-san.” and walks away before the elder can reply. For the most part, it’s to hide his slight blush.

The match starts again, and Akaashi realises he’s been holding his breath since he turned away from Bokuto. Nekoma serves, the ball makes it past the net, whizzes in Haruki’s direction, and the libero hits it. Akaashi knows the ball is coming towards him now, and he has to do this right, Bokuto’s smile is on the line-

“Bokuto-san!” Out of the corner of his eye, he registers a blur of grey-blue movement, and he knows Bokuto’s heart is probably in his throat right now, so he tosses. 

And it can’t be helped that Akaashi’s eyes are drawn to Bokuto’s form, the line of his back, and his calves, when Bokuto jumps. It really can’t. Bokuto’s arm is a blur, but Akaashi knows he’s making a show of twisting his wrist in front of Kuroo in the air, and then Bokuto’s slamming the ball past Kuroo- there’s nothing in the way, because Kuroo thought he was cross-spiking and his arms are out of the ball’s trajectory, it worked, it worked-

Fukurodani lets out a collective cheer, but nothing is louder than Akaashi’s heartbeat and the sound of Bokuto’s laugh. 

And then Bokuto’s bounding towards him, arms raised, and by now it’s muscle memory for Akaashi to raise his hands for a high five, but Bokuto catches his hands midair before he can pull away, and his face is so red.

“Keiji,” Bokuto says, and Akaashi’s body almost betrays him, he almost pulls Bokuto closer, almost clutches his hands tighter, but they’re in the middle of a match. Akaashi wants nothing more than for the entire world to fall away at this moment, this moment with Bokuto holding his hands and saying his name. But.

“You did it, Bokuto!” The team members are shouting from behind them, and Bokuto’s mouth widens into a grin. 

“I was so good! That spike was so good!” Bokuto’s back to his cheerful self, high fiving the rest of the team before their coach good-naturedly tells him to get back in the game. 

Akaashi’s heart races for the rest of the match. 

iii.

The next time it happens, they’re hanging out after school. They’ve been doing that quite a lot lately, and Akaashi isn’t sure how it started. 

Maybe it was on the day the entire team went out for lunch, and on the way back, Akaashi’s eye had caught on an owl plush in a window of a shop. He had stopped in his tracks without realising, because he really does love owls, and there was just something about this particular owl, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on-

And then Bokuto had walked backwards to him and tugged on his sleeve. “Wat’cha looking at, Akaashi?” 

Akaashi remembers looking up at Bokuto in that moment, seeing golden eyes and grey hair, and feeling a soft pull in his chest. He remembers belatedly realising that, oh, that owl looks like Bokuto-san. It really did, with its exaggerated eyebrows and grey feathers. 

Bokuto had taken one look at the plush behind the glass, and laughed deeply. “You like owls, Akaashi?” 

Akaashi had turned away. Bokuto-san is embarrassing.  
“Ah, I’ll buy you that plush sometime!” Bokuto had said. Akaashi had tried his best to hide his small smile. 

The day after that, when Akaashi was slipping on his bag after practice, Bokuto had casually asked him if he wanted to hang out after school, like it was no big deal, like Akaashi hadn’t consciously been comparing him to that owl plush all day. 

And here they are, a week and some days later. Hanging out. They talk about a lot of things- well, Bokuto talks, most of the time, and Akaashi listens. Bokuto tells him about the movies he watched that week, about the weird cashier at the supermarket near his house, about the stray cat that keeps coming back to his kitchen, and when Akaashi does open his mouth to reply, Bokuto looks so happy that Akaashi considers talking more just to see him smile again.

Lately, Akaashi has been looking at Bokuto’s smile a lot. At how his cheeks go a little pink when he’s happy. It’s not like he hasn’t noticed things about Bokuto before. The main reason Akaashi is a regular setter is because he’s great at noticing his teammates’ habits and styles on the court. He and Bokuto are a team of their own on the court because he’s especially good at noticing things about Bokuto. Bokuto’s spikes, his legs, the form of his jumps. But recently, he’s been noticing, but in different contexts. Akaashi loves it when Bokuto gets excited about the smallest of things, and when he pesters Akaashi to share his lunch with him. (“You make your own lunch? Akaashi, you have to let me taste!”) Akaashi especially loves it when they stay over at each other’s houses, because Bokuto always wakes up with a slightly red nose and mussed up hair. 

"Akaashi, want to get ice cream?" Bokuto asks, and Akaashi nods. There's no need to ask; they always go for ice cream. But Bokuto asks him everyday, and Akaashi agrees every time. Because the weather is getting warmer, but also because of the way Bokuto scrunches up his face when he tries a flavour he doesn't like. 

Today, it's green tea and mint. Akaashi sticks with strawberry. But when Bokuto offers him a taste of his ice cream on the way back, like he always does, Akaashi ends up liking it, and they end up sharing. 

It's nice to be out with Bokuto. Conversation flows easily between them, and Akaashi finds himself amused by Bokuto's increasingly outlandish stories, occasionally quipping in to point out plot holes. Akaashi idly wonders if this is what dates are like, and strangely, he doesn't feel too bothered about the possibility of this being a date.

"Bokuto-san, do you want to go to the arcade?" Akaashi asks, because he wants to play against Bokuto at Pacman and see Bokuto's outraged face again when he beats him.

Bokuto, unsurprisingly, agrees. The manager at the desk recognises them by now and smiles at them warmly when they enter. 

They go up to the old Pacman machine and Bokuto seats himself on one of the stools. "Do you want to have a competition again?" He asks. 

"Let's time each other. Who dies first buys the ice cream next time." Akaashi says. 

"Oh, you're on, Akaashi." Bokuto makes a show of flexing his arms. "Don't take the loss too hard, okay?" 

Akaashi snorts a little. "We'll see, Bokuto-san."

Akaashi knows that Bokuto has great hand-eye coordination- he's well on his way to becoming Fukurodani's ace, after all- but apparently, only in the context of volleyball. 

Bokuto loses all of his lives really quickly. Bokuto seems to be interested in looking over at Akaashi and saying, "Aha! Look, I'm winning!", and making random observations about how well he's doing (not very well) rather than actually play the game, so it's no surprise that he loses. And he loses badly. 

"Just over a minute, Bokuto-san." Akaashi says as Bokuto gets up and wears that puppy-dog expression- the one that makes Akaashi's stomach feel all funny. 

"It still depends on how long you play!" Bokuto says. 

Akaashi's gotten quite good at Pacman over the last few days, if he might say so himself. Beating Bokuto at it is going to be easy. 

Bokuto is loud from the get go. "Akaashi, you're going to lose!"

Ten seconds later, "Akaashi, look! It's an owl!" 

"It's daytime, Bokuto-san. We're indoors." 

"Get ready to buy me sweet potato ice cream tomorrow!" 

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Bokuto-san." 

Eventually, Bokuto seems to realise that his attempts at distractions aren't working. He goes silent, which puzzles Akaashi, but he continues playing. Just a little longer, then I can have free ice cream.

But things can never be that easy for Akaashi, can they? Suddenly, Bokuto's hands are on his shoulders and he feels a shiver run through his entire body. One of Bokuto's hands slides down to rest on Akaashi's forearm. Oh my god. He stumbles with the controls a little, but just as he's about to catch himself and recover- 

"Keiji," Bokuto says- his mouth is so close to Akaashi's ear- and Akaashi freezes, eyes darting immediately to Bokuto's hand on his forearm. "You have to lose!" 

And then there's a beeping, and the screen is flashing ‘GAME OVER’, Akaashi's eyes have met Bokuto's, and he has so many questions. He’d thought Keiji was reserved for only volleyball-related situations, and though two times weren’t enough to be sure, Akaashi had thought he was discerning a pattern. Until now. 

Bokuto looks uncharacteristically sheepish. "I really wanted free ice cream." He checks his watch and says, "59 seconds!" 

Akaashi is left feeling tingly all over, and his limbs don't seem to want to move, while Bokuto is excitedly listing off the flavours of ice cream he wants. 

"I thought we agreed on one flavour, Bokuto-san." Akaashi says numbly from his seat. 

"Oh, really?" Bokuto puts his arms behind his head and stretches a little. "Better than nothing, anyway."

The next day, Akaashi buys him two flavours.

iv.

How the Spring High Tournament turns out for Fukurodani is not exactly a surprise.

They're certainly not an average team, but then again, none of the teams in the top eight are. They don't have a specific strength, or a secret weapon, or an exceptional member in their team. Fukurodani is a tapestry woven together by all of their strengths and weaknesses combined, but not all of them are at their full potential yet. Akaashi and the other first years are learning more the team's dynamic everyday, Bokuto is almost constantly practising to better his straight spike, and the other second years working hard to improve too. 

They get as far as the quarter finals, and while not all of them are very satisfied about it, everybody except the graduating third-years has another shot at nationals next year. 

At the graduation party for the third years, Bokuto, unsurprisingly, gets made captain. Everybody sees it coming. Bokuto is encouraging, lively, and he does his best to bring out the team's potential. He holds up the team, and in return, they hold him up too. 

The real shocker for Akaashi is what their captain (previous captain, Akaashi thinks to himself) says next. 

"And the vice captain for next year will be Akaashi." 

Akaashi has a lot of questions- Why me? Why not anybody else? Why do you think I’m capable of being vice captain?- but everyone is clapping him on the back, and the third years are passing around a flask (Akaashi suspects, but doesn't bring it up), so he doesn't say anything. 

Later, he catches Bokuto smiling at him. 

"What is it, Bokuto-san?" 

"You know it couldn't have been anyone else," Bokuto says, and he sounds so certain that Akaashi holds off his questions, for now at least. 

The first term of Akaashi’s second year passes by like a breeze. The syllabus isn’t too advanced just yet, students hope that their teachers will let them off studying for the first few days, and there are cherry blossoms wherever he goes. 

Cherry blossoms scattered on school grounds, dragged into classrooms from under students’ shoes, spilling out of Bokuto’s pockets because, apparently, he likes to pick them and toss them in the air. 

They’re sitting under the cherry blossom trees on school grounds during their lunch break, Bokuto leaning against the truck with his legs stretched in front of him, Akaashi crouched over with his textbook because the teachers, in fact, didn’t let them off, and he has a test next period. 

Bokuto is- distracting. He keeps wiggling his toes and making little noises when cherry blossoms inevitably fall into his hair. 

“Bokuto-san, don’t third years have a lot of work to do?” Akaashi asks when he looks up from reading a paragraph and sees Bokuto trying to pick apart a flower. 

“Do we?” Bokuto smiles at the petals, and extends his palm towards Akaashi. “Oh well, I’d rather be here instead.” 

Akaashi’s heart stutters a little. Bokuto, with his untucked shirt, askew tie, and cherry blossoms in his palm, right next to him, saying that he likes being with Akaashi. 

“It is quite nice here,” Akaashi says, and goes back to his textbook. He can feel the tips of ears burning. It’s silent for the next few minutes- relatively silent, anyway, since Bokuto goes back to humming a pop song and picking flowers. 

At some point, Bokuto calls out, “Akaashi,” from behind him, and Akaashi turns to see Bokuto sitting on his knees with a few cherry blossoms between his fingers. 

“Stay still,” Bokuto says, and then he’s inching closer to Akaashi, and his fingers are brushing Akaashi’s hair and his right ear. Akaashi holds his breath as Bokuto carefully tucks a cherry blossom behind his ear, and comes up to look Akaashi in the face.

Bokuto’s cheeks are dusted a light pink, and Akaashi wants to see more of it, so he takes a blossom from Bokuto’s hand. He avoids looking Bokuto in the eyes as he tucks the flower behind his ear, but all he can think about is how soft Bokuto’s hair looks and all he wants is that smile-

And there it is- that small, gentle curve of Bokuto’s mouth Akaashi seems to catch more than anybody else on the team, along with a puff of air Akaashi feels on the side of his face, and he shivers.

“Keiji,” Bokuto’s eyes are half-closed, and he looks content and peaceful. Kind of like how Akaashi feels right now. The steady pace of Akaashi's heartbeat falters a little, and then speeds up, but he welcomes it. Akaashi isn't one to waste time with denials, so he doesn't bother. He breathes in these new feelings along with the sweet breeze, and he thinks that one way or the other, things were always going to end up like this. 

Bokuto's eyes snap open. “We should wear flowers in our hair all the time.” 

Akaashi smiles a little and leans back. “That would be impractical, Bokuto-san. They’d fall off during practice.”

“You’re right! But we have to find a way!" 

Akaashi laughs softly at how worried Bokuto sounds, and then the bell rings. 

If Akaashi writes his test with a flower in his hair and a smile on his face, nobody but his entire class has to know.

v.

It happens on one of those days that seem inconsequential at first. 

Akaashi wakes up, gets ready, eats his breakfast, goes to school. His classes go by in a blur- he can hardly distinguish one from the rest, and oh, he should really start paying attention to them. He eats lunch with Bokuto under the shade of the trees, watches him smile and nearly spit his food out while talking excitedly, feels warmth spreading all the way to his toes. 

Bokuto wears his pink kneepads again (leggings, Akaashi thinks fondly), but Akaashi has had enough practice handling them, so he manages to control how much he’s affected by them, for the most part. 

He notices Bokuto looking at him a little more than usual, but that’s been happening a lot lately, so he brushes it off. 

One hundred and ten minutes of practice leave him a little winded, and Akaashi vows to work harder to bring up his stamina. He goes to get a bottle of water, limbs aching and chest heaving. 

There’s a moment where Akaashi brings the water bottle to his lips, but he feels a strange prickling sensation starting at the back of his neck and working its way to his ears. He turns to see Bokuto watching him with a glint in his eyes, and he feels himself shiver. 

That should’ve been his first clue, but Akaashi ignores it in favour of throwing himself back into practice. 

Akaashi does start thinking that something is up when Bokuto misses three tosses in a row, and when he asks Bokuto if something is bothering him, he gets a stuttered, “N-No! I’m totally fine! Perfect, even!” in response, and a panicked expression. 

He knows that whatever it is, Bokuto will come out with it in due time, and until then Akaashi decides to pay close(r) attention to him just in case. 

Other than that, practice is usually what it is. By the time they're done, Akaashi is feeling fire blazing up his chest, both out of fatigue and leftover adrenaline. Bokuto doesn't show up to change and shower for a while, and Akaashi waits patiently. He needs to make sure Bokuto is doing alright, with them being arguably closer to each other than to anyone else on the team.

Ten minutes after the last member of their team has shuffled out of the locker room, Bokuto walks in looking wound-up and intense. He takes a seat next to Akaashi, saying nothing but sighing loudly instead. 

Akaashi is on his feet instantly. "Want me to give you a massage?" 

Bokuto looks up and meets his eyes, and the expression on his face throws Akaashi off a little. He nods, but Akaashi can tell he's holding something back.

Akaashi starts with Bokuto's shoulders, rubbing firmly and using those rolling motions that he knows Bokuto really likes. It's just the two of them, and in the wake of Akaashi's recently realised feelings, warmth and want intertwine in his stomach. 

"Ah, Keiji." Bokuto nearly moans, and Akaashi swallows thickly. Five. That's five times Bokuto has called Akaashi by his first name, and it betrays a connection they haven't reached yet, which frustrates him. Akaashi, to his body's disappointment, stops touching Bokuto and sits down next to him. Bokuto's lips part slightly as Akaashi turns him so that they're facing each other. 

Bokuto's hair is sweaty and all over the place at this point, and Akaashi picks a particularly endearing strand to brush off his forehead.

"You've been staring at me a lot today." Bokuto whispers. 

Akaashi laughs a little despite himself. "Only because you were staring so much yourself." 

"Fair," Bokuto admits. "And if I owe anyone honesty, it's you. You've been really distracting today, Keiji." 

Six. "Is that why you've been all flustered today?" 

"Yeah." Bokuto brings his hands up to hold both sides of Akaashi's face. "You're throwing me off my game, it's unfair. Are you trying to sabotage me?" 

"Yeah" Akaashi levels. "Nothing brings a setter more joy than to watch his spiker fail." 

"'His spiker'? Am I yours?" Bokuto asks him, eyes wide and so, so honest. Looking at him like this makes Akaashi feels like the rug has been pulled out from underneath him, and he's defenseless.

If there ever were a question with a clearer answer, let him be damned. 

"Yes, you are." Akaashi answers, and Bokuto replies by leaning forward a tiny bit and hovering just over Akaashi's face, noses touching. Akaashi smiles. 

He tilts his chin upwards and closes his mouth over Bokuto's. Bokuto kisses back fiercely, meeting him with the same passion they connect with on the court. 

"Keiji," Bokuto breathes through the kiss. Seven. "Keiji, get closer." Eight. His hands hook around Akaashi's waist and pull him closer until their chests are flush together. 

"Keiji-" 

Nine. 

Akaashi loses count soon after that.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic i wrote years ago, but just recently found in my docs so here u all go


End file.
